


Good Impression

by NotPersephone



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: F/M, Pre-Series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-05
Updated: 2017-06-05
Packaged: 2018-11-09 09:32:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,138
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11101764
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NotPersephone/pseuds/NotPersephone
Summary: Bedelia and Hannibal find themselves at the same conference in a rather terrible place and Hannibal attempts to entertain her.





	Good Impression

The red sign above her head reads “Comfort Inn”, yet Bedelia doubts the establishment will live up to its promise. The air is hot and humid, and she already feels uneasy, despite having barely stepped out of the car.

South Bend, Indiana is not a place she has ever considered visiting, but the offer presented by the university to be the keynote speaker at their next conference was tempting. The invitation was accompanied by an endless praise for her latest paper on transference therapy and it would be rude to decline.

But as soon as she left Chicago and the landscape outside the car window shifted to an industrial dystopia, she began to question her decision. The town itself welcomed her with a never-ending string of outlet malls, but what else one could expect from a place where the biggest attraction is a car museum.

With a sigh, she enters the hotel lobby. The sound of her heels is muffled by a thick carpet, brightly coloured, with a headache inducing pattern, something only suited in an art house horror movie, not a legitimate place of business. The woman at the front desk welcomes her with a practices smile, the fake kind Bedelia despises.

“I hope your stay will be comfortable, Doctor,” the woman presents Bedelia with a plastic key card.

There is that word again, _comfortable_. With a short thank you, she accepts the key and turns towards the elevators before being subjected to another false facial expression.

Upon ascending, she is welcomed by a never-ending corridor with another loud carpet, contrasting sharply with the bland walls. She manages to find her room in a forest of identical doors. It is more spacious than she expected, but lacks air and the red of the carpet strongly disagrees with the blue of the walls; she knows her night will not be peaceful.

Bedelia takes a shower to freshen up, but it does little to lessen her discomfort. Not wanting to postpone the inevitable, she makes her way back down to meet with the organizers. Another fake smile from the woman in charge of the conference, who commiserates with Bedelia on the extreme heat and suggests she uses the swimming pool. It earns her a scowling gaze; Bedelia is not in a habit of travelling with a bathing suit, and she would not be tempted to use a pool here under any circumstances.

A voice calls her name, it is familiar, but somehow out of place and it takes her a moment to react. She turns and comes face to face with the last person she expected to see here, her patient.

“Dr Du Maurier, it is a pleasure to see you here,” Hannibal Lecter indeed looks very happy to see her.

“Hello Hannibal. I did not expect to see _you_ here,” she gazes at him with caution,” I was under the impression that you are not interested in this type of events.” She remembers him mentioning his indifference to psychiatric conferences.

“I am not, but I was informed you will be a speaker. I would not want to miss that,” he responds a bit too enthusiastically, a sudden spark in his eyes.

She keeps regarding him curiously, analysing this unprecedented reaction.

“I look forward to attending it,” something shifts behind his irises as he subdues his tone. With a nod of a head, he bids her goodbye. Bedelia’s eyes follow his departure; Hannibal astonishes her more with each new meeting.

After all the obligatory introductions, she goes back to her room. Giving lectures always came natural to her, but the notion of speaking in front of her patient, and not just any patient, leaves her apprehensive. Even though he is also her _colleague_. She reviews her notes and her confidence returns. Unfortunately, comfort does not, her night is restless and she looks forward to putting this event behind her as soon as possible.

The next morning the conference hall is already full when Bedelia arrives. She scans the audience for familiar faces, but does not have to look hard to find Hannibal as he is seated in the front row. He notices her gaze and gives her a smile and a nod.

The introduction is made and Bedelia begins her talk. She tries not to think about her patient, but she feels his dark eyes on her, an almost physical sensation, yet not an unpleasant one; it feels like a warm, soft caress on her skin. She attempts to keep her own gaze moving among the listeners, but it persists in returning to rest on him.

The talk comes to an end and the Q&A part begins. She looks at Hannibal once more, expecting comments to follow his intense focus, but he sits quietly. There are few uneducated questions and Bedelia takes pleasure in reducing their nonsense arguments to nothing. Overall, she is satisfied with her talk.

She attends other presentations, out of courtesy, as none of the speakers, or topics, spark her interest or broaden her knowledge. Hannibal is nowhere to be seen, she notices, somehow discontented.

As the day draws to a close, several dinner invitations are extended, but Bedelia declines them all. She returns to the room which is hotter than before, air conditioning making little difference. Her shirt feels as though it is clinging to her skin. She opens her suitcase and takes out a dress hidden at its very bottom; red and sleeveless. She was not expecting to wear it, but now it seems very appropriate for the weather conditions.

The confinement of the four walls becomes unbearable and Bedelia leaves, looking for a more agreeable space. She finds the hotel bar, unimpressive room with grey tables and white walls, more appropriate for a drive-in diner than an alcohol parlour. It lacks in atmosphere and also in drink selection, Bedelia concludes upon seating herself by the bar counter. The place is almost empty and she is glad; fending off unwanted admirers is something she rarely enjoys.

A bartender jumps to her attention the moment she sits down, but looks crestfallen when she asks for iced water; an amusing reaction, he could not have expected her to want to strike a conversation with him.

She considers the possibility of changing her flight to an earlier one, when a well-known figure approaches the bar. Hannibal looks immaculate, as always, in his suit, apparently unsusceptible to the heat. Bedelia is surprised he is still here, a man of his taste must find this place as intolerable as she, but even more surprised he isn’t otherwise engaged tonight. She couldn’t help but notice several women, and men, gazing lustfully at him earlier today.

“Good evening Doctor,” he stops by her chair,” I just wanted to congratulate you on your presentation.”

“Thank you,” his complement is sincere and she appreciates it,” I am surprised you did not have any questions.”

“There was nothing to add. It was brilliant, really.”

Bedelia offers him a genuine smile.

“No dinner engagements?” he asks politely.

“No, the selection of restaurants did not seem appealing to me.” Hannibal smiles at her comment.

“But the occasion calls for a celebratory drink,” he motions to her glass of water with a questioning look.

“It is too hot for alcoholic beverages.”

“It would be a shame to waste such an evening,” he pauses, hesitating,” and this dress. You look beautiful.”

He averts his gaze and so does she, not wanting him to notice a slight blush on her cheeks.

“I guess you are right,” she breaks the moment of silence, “but – “her eyes fixed disapprovingly at the bar.

“Yes,” a single word of acknowledgement as he follows her gaze.

Another soft smile on his lips before his eyes shift back to the bar, scrutinizing its contents once more.

“Perhaps I can remedy the situation,” a new glimmer in his eyes, “please excuse me, I will back in a minute, if you do not mind waiting.”

Bedelia nods, suddenly curious, her plan to leave early now forgotten. She watches as Hannibal beckons the bartender; she cannot hear the exchange, but sees as the man’s practised smile fades and turns to bewilderment. Her interest grows as the manager joins the conversation. A minute later, as promised, Hannibal returns, beaming. She stares as he removes his jacket, folds it on the back of a chair and walks to stand behind the bar.

“What are you doing?” she enquires, but her eyes wonder to rest on his upper body; lean, muscular, and distractingly graceful. This is the first time she has seen him without the layer of tweed and the sight is more alluring than she has expected.

“The manager kindly agreed to allow me use the bar,” he rolls up his sleeves.

Bedelia glimpses at the bartender and judging by his cross look it was not that kind.

“I only require to few more ingredients,” he explains, and a moment later a waiter arrives with a curious selection: a knife and a chopping board with a cucumber, mint leaves, and a chili pepper. Hannibal inspects the items and offers a satisfied thank you.

Bedelia looks, suddenly speechless, as Hannibal begins to work. Taking a tall glass, he assesses its cleanness and places it on the counter, next to the board. He scoops a handful of ice, frowning at the inconvenience of cubes, and turns away to crush it on the opposite counter. Bedelia takes pleasure in seeing the way the muscles of his back move, stretching his shirt. When he is satisfied with amount of ice, he half fills the glass. Then he begins to chop the cucumber and places three slices in the glass. He does the same with the chili and Bedelia gives him a perplexed look as he adds it to a glass. The mint leaves follow.

All his movements are elegant and precise. It’s a performance, one she has heard rumours of, but has not witnessed herself. Until now. A performance meant for her alone. She observes the spectacle, enjoying herself for the first since she arrived. For the first time in very long time.

Hannibal fills the glass with simple syrup, lime juice and rum, then stirs and tops with Seltzer. He finishes with a flourish, garnishing the glass with a cucumber slice and a piece of chili. He presents her the glass with a skill of a seasoned bartender.

“Something refreshing for the heat and something to celebrate with. It is usually prepared with shiso leaves, but mint will do just fine, having a sharp, yet invigorating taste,” he seems pleased with his work.

The drink looks appetizing, the green and red balancing playfully amongst the ice and liquid, but she is wary.

“A chili pepper in a drink?”

“It adds an unexpected fiery finish. Life needs a pinch of excitement at times.”

It would be rude to refuse after all the effort he put into the preparation. She takes a small sip; the taste surprises her. The sweetness of rum is cut with refreshing notes of the mint and cucumber while the chili leaves a tingling sensation on her tongue. Invigorating indeed, she thinks as she takes another, proper sip.

“This is delicious. Thank you,” she says sincerely.

“I am glad,” he looks relieved, a strange expression of someone who does not normally worry about the reception of his skills. He begins to clear the board.

“Are you not having one?” it’s an invitation and Hannibal smiles broadly. It makes him appear almost boyish, and looks good on him, Bedelia concludes. He prepares a second drink; another performance she delights in.

When the cocktail is ready, Hannibal tidies the bar and Bedelia deems it cleaner now than it was before he started. Disappointingly, he puts his jacket back on. They leave the bar counter and settle themselves by a table in the corner.

The evening turns to night and Hannibal’s company is as delightful as his cocktail. Bedelia cannot recall when was the last time she enjoyed such a stimulating conversation. She does not think there ever was one.

When the bar closes, Hannibal walks her to the elevator.

“My stay here was quite uncomfortable. Thank you for making this evening an enjoyable one,” she says with unusual honesty.

“It was my pleasure,” another boyish smile on his lips. He looks so eager to please and she thinks of all the ways she could put that to good use.

“I will see you at our next appointment,” she tries to dismiss those sudden notions.

“I look forward to it.”

Bedelia smiles at him. She looks forward to it too.

The sleep comes easier that night as not so subtle thoughts about her patient slip within her mind. She has never expected that South Bend will leave her with such a good impression.

 

**Author's Note:**

> In my mind this took place very early on in their relationship, when Hannibal was already head over heels for Bedelia and not sure how to manoeuvre his feelings and Bedelia has just begun to fall for him. His first, and successful, attempt to impress her.  
> Judging by the pictures, the hotel is not as bad as I made it out to be, but still way below their standards.
> 
> You know where to find me, if you want to obsess over these two.


End file.
